


Crocodile Conga

by bugsuit



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: motherfucking dance party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-20
Updated: 2011-04-20
Packaged: 2017-10-18 10:17:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/187846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bugsuit/pseuds/bugsuit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>INITI-NAK-TION! Tame fic. Hope you like crocodiles. For best results, listen to Tribal Ebonpyre.  Now with fixed formatting!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crocodile Conga

In all fairness, the heat probably wasn't doing him any good. It was too fucking hot and the lava was making him sweat and his suit was clinging to him like he'd just jumped in a lake. A really hot lake.  
Okay thinking about water wasn't a good idea either. Dave really, really needed a drink. Even apple juice sounded like a good idea - he could forget all about the piss thing and just drink that shit down like it was - well, juice - if he had any.  
But he didn't. It looked like his only option would be to ask the consorts, and that just... didn't even seem like a feasible idea. Last time he'd made contact they had tried to eat him. They were primitive and stupid and everything a game construct should be - which, unfortunately, meant they must be somewhat helpful as well. Dave put on his best don't-fuck-with-me face and stepped towards a pair of crocodiles, the lava pool behind them casting an ominous red glow on his face.  
"Nak?"  
"Your god speaking. Get me a drink."  
"Nak nak?"  
"Drink." He made a drinking motion, then belatedly wondered if they even drank out of glasses. The consorts stared up at him blankly; he tried a different tactic. "Nak nak nakkedy nak nak get me a fucking drink nak nak nak."  
Their eyes widened for a second, then all of a sudden the two crocodiles turned away and began nakking frantically amongst themselves. Dave made an exasperated sound and stormed off in the opposite direction.  
A few moments later, he was being carried along by a large crowd of chanting crocodiles. In hindsight, trying to speak a language he'd never bothered to learn probably wasn't the smartest of ideas - but that was hardly his fault. It consisted of one made-up word, and he'd be damned if he was admitting it could possibly be anything but nonsense. Still, he was in some deep trouble right now for running his mouth, and he didn't even know what he'd said.  
"NAK," snapped a loud voice from beneath him, and all at once he found himself expelled from the shoulders of the crowd and landed on his ass in the least dignified manner possible. The consorts spread out around him and formed a circle. Damn things looked hyperactive as fuck. Dave got to his feet and brushed dry, reddish dust from his pants.  
"Are we done?"  
"Nope nak." Well, shit, one that actually spoke a word of English. "Nak nak!" the crocodile shouted, and all at once the murmurs from the rest of the consorts died into nothing. There was a long silence, broken only by the occasional gloopy sound of a magma bubble bursting. The crocodile stepped forwards into the circle, and Dave noted with considerabl disdain that it was wearing a headdress made of ancient, salvaged crow feathers. "Initi-nak-tion!"  
There was a chorus of loud naks and the crocodiles stamped their feet in excitement, lapsing into silence again when the leader held up its paws and stared around with wild eyes.  
"Back the fuck up, what are you trying to accomplish here?" Dave asked, but the tribal croc ignored him and instead skittered forwards.  
"Naknak nak nak naknak!" it yelled, and the two smaller consorts from earlier (Dave assumed they were younger) quickly brought forth a small bowl full of red liquid. Please let this be a fucking beverage, the Knight thought to himself, but this idea was clearly too good to be true. The headdress bearer dipped its paws into the liquid and at the same time Dave felt two more crocodiles leap onto his shoulders.  
"Augh, what the fuck-"  
They attempted to coax him closer to the floor, but he shook them off with ease. The leader narrowed its eyes. Dave seized the opportunity.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began trolling ectoBiologist [EB] \--  
TG: john  
TG: they want me to paint my fucking face  
EB: haha, what! who?  
TG: these goddamn consorts  
EB: what's going on?  
TG: all i asked for was a glass of water and now theyre trying to get me to undergo their tribal marriage orgy rituals through which young crocs become men  
TG: except their trial is to suffer through several hours of nakking get a butterfly doodled on my face do the naked macarena and then probably get cooked into soup again i dont know  
TG: kinda going on guesswork here  
EB: oh man!  
TG: egbert if you say this is like that one scene out of a movie i swear to god ill kick your ass  
EB: aww! you caught me, dude. i had it half typed and everything!  
EB: well uh, what's the problem?  
TG: are you fucking kidding me  
TG: im not doing this shit  
TG: not fucking happening nope not in a million years and i would know im the knight of time  
EB: haha! dave it can't be that bad!  
TG: john oh my god  
EB: just do it, man! maybe you'll get some kind of neat prize or something.  
TG: what do they have to offer me egbert theyre goddamn crocodiles  
EB: this is a game after all! maybe this is some kind of sidequest?  
EB: just go for it! what have you got to lose?  
TG: hold on man theyre nakking at me again  
\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] \--

Dave glared down at the feathered crocodile and a few seconds passed in which not a single movement took place in the entire circle of consorts. Then, slowly, the Knight lowered himself to one knee.  
"Make this shit fast or I'll show you all so many stabs you won't even be able to sift flour with your perforated carcasses."  
The leader seemed to grin madly (maybe it was the teeth) and re-saturated his paws in red paint. Dave found himself with a circle drawn raggedly on his forehead and waited impatiently as the consort marked several dabs around the outside. He realised after it was done that he now had the damn gear symbol on his face. Of fucking course. This was stupid.  
He made to straighten up again, but the crocodile gave him a stern look - apparently it wasn't done. One of the crocodiles on the far side of the circle raised its hands and nodded frantically at him, so Dave copied the motion, palms vertical and outwards-facing.  
The leader dipped its paws in the paint again and, gently but firmly, pressed them against the dead centre of his hands. The paint was cool and wet, and the sensation was disturbingly like cold blood - luckily, it smelled of berries. Where they would even get berries in a land of scorching magma, Dave didn't care enough to ask.  
The crocodile held their appendages together for ten long seconds. Dave found himself meeting its eyes, and immediately realised that whatever he was doing, it was of serious importance. Consorts weren't exactly intelligent, per se, but there was definitely a spark of something in those beady eyes that communicated some sense of primal fierceness and - more importantly - pride. Dave was being initiated.  
Any snarky insult Dave had been preparing died in his mouth as the crocodile pulled back, and the rest began to stamp their feet again. Their strange expressions of enthusiasm lapsed into silence again, and an odd drum-beat started up. He glanced to his right, where a consort marked in tarry black paint (a stripe under each eye, a line down the snout) was beating primitive drums with its front paws.  
"What now?" he found himself muttering, before realising the other crocodiles had begun to move. Slowly at first, then speeding up to match the tempo, they turned to face a counter-clockwise direction and stomped one foot to the heated iron grille floor on each drumbeat.  
The tribe leader retreated backwards and the smaller crocodiles quickly fled to take their places in the circle, one beckoning to him.  
"No."  
"Nak."  
"Hell no."  
"Naaak."  
"Hell fucking no."

\-- gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] \--  
GG: aaaaawwwwwww!!!  
GG: daaave you look so sweet!!!!!! hehehehehe!!!  
TG: fuck off jade im busy  
TG: its a lot harder to teach a crocodile to sockhop than i make it look  
\-- turntechGodhead [TG] blocked gardenGnostic [GG] \--  
GG: say cheese!!!!! im saving this picture forever! :D

**Author's Note:**

> this is STUPID / this was hella fun to write  
> pick one
> 
> (i have no fucking clue how to format the pesterlogs, someone teach me aaaa -flails-)  
> EDIT: thank you SOMUCH to Laylah for linking me to that tutorial, _ohmygod_ so helpful! Brb using it forever. Also thanks to vector for making the tutorial in the first place, herp derp


End file.
